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Horses, Kids, Babies, and Mountain Dew

We worked calves Saturday morning, and because it’s the middle of July and the temperature becomes unbearably, oppressively, desperately hot by seven, we had to get out of bed at–gulp—4:00 am, get the kids dressed, saddle the horses, and start gathering the cattle before daylight, not at daylight, which is decidedly different, thank you very much. By 6:30 (above), we’d gathered the pairs and were already back at the pens.

While the men do the tough work of sorting off the cows from the calves, the punks get to run around and play for awhile. They’ve been up since four, so they’ve earned it.

The horses have put in a couple hours’ work too, so by the time they get back to the pens, they’re ready for a nice big bowl of grass for breakfast. And they’re tenacious; you have to really give ’em a tug to get them to move, and even then they don’t want to. Our oldest has it all figured out, but our other daughter doesn’t seem to be making much headway. Peso likes his food.

Notice the wad of grass in L.B.’s mouth. He likes his breakfast, too. That’s okay, though. L.B. can do no wrong in my eyes.

L.B.’s the sweetest, most perfect horse. Everyone thinks so.

Goose ain’t bad, either.

By the way, see those two bottoms over to the left there? That’s what mine looks like after I eat the recipe appearing on my food site tomorrow. Minus the tail, of course. ‘Cause that would be very strange.

You talk about a little girl whose every breath and thought and word and deed centers around her horse. Well, that and Barbie dolls and princess paraphernalia of any kind. She’s afflicted.

And she hates having her picture taken. Can you tell?

And here’s my baby. Our four-year-old boy granted him permission to ride L.B. around for awhile because our baby’s horse, Little Jim, is still in the process of being broken.

And at what point must a mother stop referring to her youngest child as her "baby?" Because I try and try and all attempts to do so are futile. Please advise.

L.B.’s so gentle, I wasn’t the least bit worried he’d buck. But my baby (there I go again) wanted to ride L.B., not just sit on him as L.B. feasts upon his second, third, and fourth breakfasts. So I tasked my girl with leading L.B. around for awhile and keeping her eye on my BABY. (Now I’m saying it just out of spite.)

Maybe calling him my "Baby" is some kind of defense mechanism? Maybe it’s my way of assuring myself that I’m through with the gestating era of my life? Calling him "Baby", maybe, implies that I’m done? Getting pregnant? And having swollen ankles? And snoring? Yeah, I think that’s what it is.

This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind that morning, but like a good little punk, she obliged.

It wasn’t the easiest job, either. L.B. wanted to EAT, dadgummit. Gawsh, those horses work up an appetite.

It was right about here that my girl caught glimpse of her sister, her other brother, and her two cousins playing. Like, climbing on top of the horse trailers and cracking open Mountain Dews and giggling and laughing playing.

It was right about here that she started getting a little irked. She loves playing with her cousins, after all. And she loves Mountain Dew.

She hollered at her older sister, "HEY! Will you come over here and do it for awhile?"

(And yes, I just said "hollered." I say it daily, and with some degree of regularity. I’m not ashamed one bit, but please don’t tell my old friends and cohorts from L.A. Not that I’m ashamed, okay? Holler. See?)

"HEY!!!!!" she repeated. "Can you PLEASE come over here and lead him around for awhile?"

Her plaintive cry went unanswered.

I remember this commercial I used to see when I lived in L.A. It was for a "career training center" and the commercial began with a woman sitting at her desk, haggard and disillusioned, staring blankly at the camera and moaning, "I really hate my dumb job."

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Michelle-Auburn, AL

They will always be you babies. I still call my oldest, who is 15, baby.

A Alabama Grandmother

You and MM have the cutiest little punks!
I only have one but he’s a big punk (40 yrs old)uh oh.. telling my age.lol I have a punk grandson but he’s not little either. Gonna tell my big punk that I want him to work on getting me a little punk.. I just love cute lil punks.
LB looks so sweet and gentle.

http://richardandmelissa.blogspot.com Melissa in NZ

Ah well, you see … I am the youngest of 6 girls. Tuesday is my 35th birthday. Yep. Mid thirties. And my mommy still calls me her baby. So there you go. He will always be your baby … unless you go forth and have another one. Then he’ll be relegated to middle-child status. Are you prepared to do that to your BABY? Heh.
I’m so pleased you also snore when you’re pregnant. I nearly drove my man crazy with it.

http://gungar.blogspot.com Chantie

Hi Ree, I’ve been reading your blog for a while now and I’ve never commented. But now I must tell you how SUPER happy these pictures make me… seeing your kids with the horses, it’s beautiful. I can’t even remember the last time I rode a horse so it’s way too long ago – but I live in the city and there aren’t really many horses around… anyways I’m a regular here now and you know just how to light up the day 🙂 thanx!! Chantie from Holland

Heidi

HA – HOLLER!!! Now I dont feel so alone… we holler daily – when your working around animals, including children, what other word is there for useing the upper volumes and pitchs of your vocal chords!!! YEAH HOLLER!!! LOL Great pictures

http://www.doilooklikeabank.blogspot.com Bridget

We had 8 horses when I was growing up on our farm and my horse was Slim. He was a Quarterhorse gelding and he was the sweetest, most gentle horse. You could do anything with him and he just loved you. When my Dad bought him for me, the people who sold him told us not to use a regualar bit in his mouth, we had to use a hack-a-more (I hope I spelled that right) because his mouth was too tender for a regular one. Yes, he was spoiled and a baby and he loved jelly beans.
My youngest will be 9 on Thursday and I still call him my baby.

http://www.mariemillard.blogspot.com Nancy

Yep, no matter how old he is, he’ll always be your “baby” ….unless of course …. you have one more. That ranch can always use one more pair of hands.

Hey, even for the sake of blog fodder *wink*

http://photosbytammy.blogspot.com Tammy/Photography for Fun

My 16-year old is still my baby and I’ve told her she always will be. She’s my only one so she’s stuck with the title. She doesn’t seem to mind most of the time.

http://www.thenins.com Nin

your niece sure does like her pink! it’s very cute.

http://profile.typekey.com/jetgirl/ Annie

There was Mt.Dew??
No wonder!!
It’s the nectar of the gods next to bean juice (a.k.a. coffee).

JDR

I have 4 kids also. Mine are 7,6,5 and 4. You would think with 4 so close in age that no one would emerge as the baby, but yep, the 4yo is very much the baby. I call her the baby and sometimes her sister and brothers call her the baby. I’ve just quit fighting it.

http://inthemeantime.typepad.com/in_the_meantime/ Jennifer

When we were kids, my brother and I could hear my mother holler for us to come home from several blocks away. Jeeennniiifffeeerrrr, tiiimmmeee fooorr diiinnneeerrr. She said it was all in the diaphragm.

http://gabbygwenhwyfar.blogspot.com/ Jennifer

Where are those kids helmets???

LOL

HA HA HAHAAAA!!!

I’m just kidding — I’m making fun of the dorks who asked where the seat belts were the other day. LOL

OK — so I’m not funny… but those ladies were idiots… Just wanted to point that out again.

THANKS for sharing the photos — beautiful!!

http://fromnatsbrain.typepad.com Nat

Well, I am delurking although you intimidate me with the cooking and the kitchen.

I, slacker that I am, only have one Little Man. And he is my baby bear. He will always be my baby bear. Age will have nothing to do with it. I’ll 85 and he’ll come by at 55 and I’ll say “Baby Bear lets go for a run.” Or something…

On snoring and pregnancy, I snored so loudly that my man moved out of our bedroom and clear across the house.

http://fromnatsbrain.typepad.com Nat

And sometimes my grammar doesn’t suck… (sorry about that a bit quick on the post button.)

Briget

CUTE post today!! I can just hear your lil punk yelling (‘scuse me – hollering) “Hey! HEY!!!”!! And how lucky is your Pink Niece? Horse mad and she actually HAS a horse to ride and love!

I’m making peach crisp today. Couldn’t hold out any longer.

http://texasplogzor.blogspot.com Kitty Bo

Here, we not only holler, but we’re always FIXIN’ to do things. Lovely pictures. My baby is almost 24, but really, all 3 are still my babies, still make my heart leap and wrap around them.

Pat

Great pictuers. Thanks for sharing. I live in a suburb of NYC. My life couldn’t be any more different from yours. I really enjoy your blog. You have a beautiful family.

http://web.mac.com/tsrainer/ stacey Rainer

Who are all these crazy people up leaving comments on a blog at 5 a.m.?? That’s the MIDDLE of my night! I really am enjoying your blog! Love the horse pics.

http://hudginsmom.blogspot.com Leah

Hey Ree, I’ve been reading your blogs for a while (even made a few of your yummy recipes) but never commented.
As for the baby thing, I’m the “baby” of four kids and my mom still refers to me as her baby in cards and introducing me to co-workers and friends. I’m 24. But the kicker is this, when I had my baby my mom came into the room, right after she corralled the rest of the family in, and gushed “My baby just had a baby!”
So all that said, once a baby always a baby.

http://www.mdquilter.blogspot.com Ann S

I still call my 20 year old son (the youngest of 4) my baby. Usually this is OK, but NOT in front of his buddies!

http://www.LittleWoolgatherings.blogspot.com Melissa R. Garrett

Aww! I *love* it!

Beautiful shots of beautiful children and land ~ WOW!

*I have a new favorite blog!!*

http://www.kimwrites.blogspot.com kim-d

Awww…add me to the “your baby will always be your baby” group. But, I also think that, even if you have another, this particular one will *still* be your baby. Your post yesterday made my heart sing. This one, today? Makes my heart smile. Your Younger Girl Punk? What a gal. I have an overwhelming urge to buy her a new purse. With the Bonne Bell Kool-Aid flavored Lip Smacker variety pack inside. She’s DEFINITELY NOT My Favorite Punk :). I could go outside and holler it for all the world to hear, because I try to holler on a daily basis. Cool is never a thing I aspired to! Just another observation–Oldest Girl Punk’s hair is getting VERY LONG; I never noticed a ponytail before! Because I’m so familiar with you all, I think she looks SO MUCH like you :). Yup, stunning! Can’t wait for tomorrow’s Ree-cipe!

http://mamaslair.blogspot.com Mama Bear

What a sweet post! I’m going to show my cubs how your punks work hard so they can play hard (minus your eldest punk in this outting…LOL). I lay a lot of responsibility on my eldest too, and he handles it like a champ most of the time. I do make sure that he gets rewarded for his helpfulness and that he gets some time to do what he likes to do, which in the irony of all ironies is playing with his siblings.

P.S. – I call all of my cubs “baby” and for some strange reason, there’s no confusion. Maybe they’re like puppies and can hear the difference in my tone. 😉